


Untitled

by himekohimura



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Dylan is unable to shut off his brain, Hobrien, M/M, Table Sex, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himekohimura/pseuds/himekohimura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem is this: he needs to stay away from Hoechlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I know their personalities enough to really write RPF so sorry if it sounds like Sterek instead of hobrien.

The problem is this: he needs to stay away from Hoechlin. 

Every time he's even a little next to the guy someone starts to objectify his relationship with said man above and he just gets...upset. He doesn't want the entire nation to know who he's fucking. Yeah, sure, there was a time when he was all about videotaping his life, but that time is over. He's not in high school anymore. Nope. He's in the real world and let me tell you, the real world sucks. 

Because in real world terms, Hoechlin sees the entire thing as a joke. A really funny one. "Hey look Dylan, they think we're fucking." And he laughs. Laughs, laughs, laughs. While Dylan is thinking 'Hey look Hoechlin. They think we're fucking. Let's actually fuck then.'

But that's never going to happen. Because Dylan is a scaredy cat and would never ask Hoechlin that. Never. Ever. Not going to happen.

But then it does. And now he's here. With Hoechlin looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth that Dylan just wants to attach himself to.

Which he does as well. What in the--he's not his character. He's not Stiles at all. He's the opposite of Stiles. He has control. He's not a blabbering teenager with a crush. Dylan is a mature adult.

Which is why he's currently trying to wrap himself around Hoechlin like tortilla around the good bits. Oh god, even his inner monologues suck.

And then Hoechlin is sucking on his bottom lip and Dylan lets out a noise that he thinks could rival a porn star any day. 

"You're thinking too much," Dylan hears Hoechlin say but doesn't comprehend because his mind is doing exactly that. What is Hoechlin thinking? Why does he think that he can just...Okay, so Dylan was the one who launched himself at Hoechlin but god damn it, he shouldn't be so receptive. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Dylan asks, rubbing himself on the front of Hoechlin like a cat. "Stop this?"

"No, don't stop that. The thinking. I can hear it from here." Hoechlin sounds breathless and Dylan cheers internally. "God, I've wanted you..."

"Since first season?" Dylan smiles and lets himself be carried over to the table. He had fantasies about things like this; Hoechlin fucking him over a table was a highlight, though he never thought it'd happen. "Since second season?"

"Since forever." Dylan takes that to mean first season. Hoechlin grabs the helm of Dylan's shirt and Dylan lifts his arms automatically, shivering as his skin is revealed to the cold air. Thank god he'd decided to have a brain fart and launch himself at Hoechlin while in a dressing room where there's a lock and a shower close by instead of, say, on set where everyone could see him embarrass himself.

Hoechlin already has his shirt off when Dylan gets back with the program and he hums his approval, running a finger over a pert nipple. "I love when you're half naked."

"Most of America does too." Hoechlin mouths at Dylan's neck, sending sparks down Dylan's spine. 

"So I'm most of America?"

"You're the part of America that counts."

And that makes Dylan's head switch off. Because Hoechlin is a romantic fucktard and Dylan wants to fuck said romantic fucktard for making his feels stab him in the chest. 

The rest of their clothing fly off and it feels like only seconds later he's flat on his back with his knees against his chest and Hoechlin slathering at his entrance. "Oh god..."

"Tyler, actually," Hoechlin glances up at Dylan with a rugged grin as he pushes the first finger into Dylan. Dylan whimpers, throwing his head back as the digit passes through the ring of muscle and into the soft tissue within. It doesn't hurt, but it's been a while since he's been on the receiving end of a fucking. "You okay."

Dylan wants to scream at Hoechlin to not ask those kinds of questions but to just get on with the fucking, but he doesn't have words. Not right now when the finger brushes against his prostate and a 'yes, i'm okay' turns into a "yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh fuckkkkkkkk...."

The smug look on Hoechlin's face makes Dylan want to punch him but his hips have better ideas like humping into the hand that's curled around his dick. "You look amazing like this." Hoechlin mutters as he pushes a second spit-slicked finger into Dylan. It's a bit tighter now and Dylan can feel his body stretching to accommodate. 

"Please, just..." Dylan struggles to say something, but he can't because Hoechlin--Tyler--is messing around with his male g-spot in really good ways that makes speech impossible. "Fuck."

And then the fingers are gone and he feels Hoechlin move away. "Wha..." Dylan turns his head to see Hoechlin fumble around in one of the bags. His bag, he thinks, but then there's a conquering 'ah-hah!' and Hoechlin holds up a bottle of hand lotion with a grin. 

Dylan rolled his eyes as Hoechlin comes back. "You're such a chil...ahhhh!!" It's cold going in but holy fuck does it feel amazing. The burn is pleasant and Hoechlin wastes no time finding his prostate again. "Oh shit, oh fuck, Hoechlin--Tyler---oh god, please just..." Dylan's just rambling now, but Hoechlin's got the idea. He pulls out his fingers once more and replaces them with something much thicker. 

They both groan as Hoechlin pops the head of his cock in. "You feel...god, you're tight," Hoechlin moans as he slowly rocks himself into Dylan. It's almost too much pain, but then Hoechlin adjusts his angle and Dylan is gasping. 

Hoechlin pounds into him and Dylan's brain short circuts. All he can think of is the way Hoechlin's cock is stabbing at his prostate and how his hand is curling and pumping at his own dick in time with Hoechlin's thrusts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," is the only words coming out of his mouth and Hoechlin has this face that almost makes him look like Derek, concentrating on his prey, ready to pounce and oh god that visual is actually quite sexy and Dylan is coming all over his fists.

He tightens around Hoechlin, causing a moan and a couple more sharp thrusts before Hoechlin is spilling in him with a shout of Dylan's name. 

Dylan is sure someone heard them, but he really couldn't care less. His back is kind of sore from being fucked like that on a table. He thinks that next time they should fuck on a bed. He says as much to Hoechlin who is slumped over him.

"A bed." Hoechlin raises an eyebrow and grins in a way that Derek never would. "What about the shower next?" And Dylan really can't say no to that idea.


End file.
